


The Two in Trost

by Falconette



Series: Jean x reader x Marco [5]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Lemon, Multi, Romance, Smut, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 19:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1700147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falconette/pseuds/Falconette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Battle of Trost and its dire aftermath</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Two in Trost

**Author's Note:**

> One of my OT3 (Jean x reader x Marco) stories. They are interconnected as they happen in the same universe, however can be read separately.
> 
>  
> 
> (Trivia: isn’t it awesome that 'der Trost' in German means consolation/solace/comfort? )

**The Two in Trost**  
  
Walking down the stone-paved streets of Trost accompanied by Marco and Jean, even with a heavy satchel on your back, you felt an exhilarating amount of freedom. The hard work was done - tomorrow was your graduation day. Three years of military training earned you the right to join the troops and really start living your life, pursuing a career. Both Marco and Jean made it to the top ten of your generation, no surprises there, and even though your own score was below the line that divided the elite from the rest, you walked easily with a smile on your face. The boys will take care of you. They always did.  
  
As per cue, Marco’s gentle eyes caught your gaze and gave you a wink, careful not to touch you or get too personal in public. After all, you were wearing uniforms of the King’s soldiers which bound you to a code that didn’t apply to regular citizens.  
  
The daylight was slowly waning as you made your way through the alleys, for the first time in years not rushed by your superior’s barking orders or some chore you had to get done. What awaited you at the end of this trek was rest and sleep, but you took your time enjoying the sounds of the everyday life around you, savoring the sights of people, facades and the vast sky in the soft light of sunset.  
  
Jean was half a step ahead, never the easygoing type, striding down the familiar streets towards the house he grew up in. Jean’s father, being a merchant, often travelled in search for a bargain and this time Jean’s mother accompanied him. They didn’t give a reason but Jean commented they were in the Inner walls, probably in search for a graduation gift for him. It made him glad, though he would never admit it, but it also gave you an opportunity to step out of military rut and enjoy the luxury of a civilian life. With your training officially finished and the act of graduation being a formality, your captain didn’t make a fuss over you, Marco and Jean taking a leave from the barracks as long as you showed up in time for your duties. He didn’t ask where each of was going to sleep and you gave him no explanations.   
  
Jean unlocked the door and let you in, lighting a candle to give you a notion of the space you entered. You looked around in awe since your own home was a lot humbler and Marco’s low whistle revealed his similar impression. However, you didn’t have the energy to marvel at the sight, having been on your feet since dawn in preparations for the big day. The supper you ate in the barracks was making you drowsy and Jean must have noticed your fatigue since he skipped the tour of the premises and started climbing the staircase to his room.  
  
You and Marco followed his candlelight, the old wooden steps squeaking beneath your weight.  
  
“So much space for just a single family.” you remarked, hearing Marco behind you concur.  
  
“It has been in my family for decades. My great-great-grandfather built this house.” Jean half-turned to explain, opening the door and motioning you in. “Here’s where we’ll sleep.”  
  
You dragged your feet up the few remaining stairs when you felt Marco’s hands cupping your buttocks and gently ushering you up and inside the room. It was spacious and simply furnished, but the main interest of your focus was the bed you spotted in the corner.  
  
“Please guys, not now.” your voice sounded as feeble as you felt. You stood in the middle of the room, the satchel at your feet, swaying in your boots and casting longing gazes towards the bed. “I am beat.”  
  
Marco and Jean exchanged short glances and shrugged in unison. The dark haired youth then came up to you and started unbuckling the maneuver gear clasps, gently and deftly, with an understanding smile on his freckled face.  
  
“Your wish is our command.” he quietly snickered and removed the intricate belt system from your body, making you feel light and free. You took a deep, relieved breath and patently waited for Jean’s hands to unbutton your shirt and peel it off your limbs, allowing Marco’s fingers to work on your belt and pants. You sat on the bed as they pulled the long boots off your calves, one by one, relishing in the feeling of being able to move your toes freely again. Jean knelt and gave your feet a few squeezes to start the blood running again, a half-smile flickering on his face. It might have been the reflecting soft candle light or the fact that he was home, but the edge he usually wore was gone from his eyes.  
  
“Thank you for coming over.”  
  
“Thank YOU!” you yawned, suddenly aware of softness of the mattress underneath you. “Compared to the barracks, this place is a palace.” You let yourself fall, the goose-down pillow catching you and letting you sink in a little piece of heaven. Once closed, your lids refused to open again. “Sorry,” you slurred, “Must. Sleep.”  
  
Somebody moved in beside you and you knew it was Marco by the way he pulled you in and spooned your body, his wide chest breathing evenly against your back. Jean followed after a moment, sliding in on the other side and pulling the covers over you, fingers of his one hand already tangled in your hair, the other grasping your fingers.   
  
“So sleep.” Marco murmured in the nape of your neck. The smell of their skin intoxicatingly mixed with fresh scent of crisp sheets and you were asleep before you could wipe the smile off your face.  


* * *

  
A pleasant feeling woke you up, stirring a yearning warmness in your belly. In pitch darkness, somebody’s fingers were gently pressed against your lower lips, waking your body up before your mind caught on.  
  
“Mmmnn…?” you shifted and stirred, teetering between sleep and wakefulness, allowing the warm fingers to slide in the moist crevice. Its owner didn’t waste time; he started massaging tenderly with his fingertips, brushing your clitoris almost timidly until your body reacted, craving more.  
  
You sighed and slowly exhaled, feeling the pleasant weakness spreading up your belly and down your thighs. It was Jean’s hand that had crept in on you, playing you like a harp.  
  
“You will wake Marco up.” you whispered, trying not to move too much.  
  
“I am already awake.” a sleepy voice from behind you tickled your skin, then connected with it in a light kiss. Jean’s fingers became bolder but still playful, making you swell and overflow with lubricating fluids. His lips fumbled a bit before they found yours in darkness, playing with them before sliding his tongue across your teeth.  
  
“We have to get up early tomorrow…” you unconvincingly protested, gyrating your hips beneath Jean’s fingers. He was now deep inside, filling you and touching you, making you want more.  
  
“Surely you have time for one orgasm?” he breathed in your ear, making Marco snicker.  
  
“Yeah,” Marco added, “what could be more important than this moment?” His erect cock was poking you from behind, its s smooth bulkiness scalding your inner thighs.  
  
“Graduation?” you weakly offered then moaned loudly as Jean pinched your bulging clitoris between his fingers, making both boys chuckle.  
  
“So…” Jean’s taunting voice came from somewhere in front of you, “Want me to stop then?”  
  
“N-no…” you breathed, moving in closer to his hand, Marco’s shaft maddeningly rubbing the tender flesh between your thighs, titillating you.  
  
“I thought so.” Jean whispered, his breath hot and aroused. Marco’s fingers slid in between your things and entered you from behind, allowing Jean to concentrate solely on your clitoris. Marco penetrated deep, wriggling his fingers inside until he discerned by your reactions that he had hit the right spot. Then he continued massaging you gently, in sync with Jean’s rhythm.  
  
Your breaths became heaves with waves of pleasure washing over your skin. All thoughts of sleep disappeared from your mind as you rocked your hips back and forth between your lovers’ bodies, your pelvis cradled from front and behind in their palms, forgetting yourself, chasing your climax.  
  
“Ohhhh, you are so wet.” Marco’s panting whisper filled your ear, his teeth nibbling your earlobe, sucking on it. “I wish it was me inside you now.” His cock moved in and out between your thighs like a mallet, harder with each stroke, picking up speed. He was not holding back.   
  
Your hand reached back, nails raking through his short hair, pulling his mouth to your neck. He bit down and sucked, sending shivers up and down your spine.  
  
“ Marco…” you sighed, sliding your fingers down his neck and muscular shoulder, rubbing yourself against his taut chest. The warmth that your bodies emanated beneath the blanket was becoming sultry and unbearable, but everybody seemed too preoccupied to do something about it.  
  
Jean’s fingers also moved faster and faster, gliding without friction across your smooth tender flesh, heedless of your louder and deeper moans. “I have put myself to sleep this way in this bed so many times.” he mumbled while sweaty fingers of your other hand slid down his firm stomach in search of his erection. “I cannot believe I finally have a girl here with me.”  You tugged at his penis and messed up his beat, but he quickly recuperated and continued, bringing you closer to the sweet release. Your thighs instinctively clenched tighter and you felt a shudder run through Marco’s neck underneath your fingers.  
  
“Oooohhh, FUCK! I can’t… hold it… anymo…!” Marco’s body suddenly jerked and trembled against your back, hot liquid spewing over your legs. Him nearing his climax triggered something in you, pushing you over the edge. Your body made a couple more involuntary movements, sliding itself alongside their fingers and then you came, digging your nails into Jean’s chest and Marco’s shoulder, unable to contain a breathless yelp of pleasure that escaped your throat.  
  
It took awhile for your breathing to calm and Jean patiently waited, his erection unwavering. Marco slumped beside you, one of his hands absently stroking your thigh and buttock, finally overcome by drowsiness and exhaustion. As your hand started working on Jean again, his fingers cupped your breasts and squeezed them gently, unsurely.  
  
“You are really here.” he whispered to himself. Your other hand blindly caressed his face, tracing its contours in darkness. He was strangely still.   
  
“Sorry to have kept you waiting for so long.” you whispered back smilingly and leaned in to kiss him.   
  
“It was so lonely here before.” barely audible, his breath warmed your lips, surprising you with its serious undertone. “I had to leave this place to find you.”  
  
“I am here now.” you assured him, instinctively guessing it was something he needed to hear, kissing his forehead and working your hand up and down his shaft. It was unlike Jean to openly display his tender spots. “You can sleep safely.”  
  
Jean nodded and you could feel his body relax, pulling himself closer to you. In darkness, his presence felt immediate and yet indiscernible. Intimate. He completely let himself go in your hands, allowing you to caress and stroke him as you pleased and only his hastened breathing gave away his climax. Slowly and gently, your fingers brought him there and he shuddered and sighed, pulling you into a tight embrace, while his seed spurted on your bellies.   
  
“Thank you.” his voice was soft and raw, but you couldn’t see his expression so you just kept kissing his lips that responded in unusual tenderness.  
  
You lost track of time lying like that and roused from a light sleep only when Marco pulled the covers over your exposed shoulder. Sweat was starting to cool your body and you snuggled tighter in between the boys, absorbing their body heat.   
  
“We messed up your sheets.” you said regretfully, moving away from the wet, sticky patches on the bedding. Jean snorted and Marco gave a short laugh as he pulled you into a protective embrace, one of his hands playfully fumbling your breast.   
  
“That is what boys’ beds are usually like.” Marco’s deep voice explained from darkness. “Messy.”  
  
“Yeah,” Jean chimed in, folding in the moist parts of the sheet and lying on top of them to get closer to you, “maybe it’s a good thing that girls don’t have access to boys’ dormitories after all.”  
  
Tightly cuddled between Jean and Marco’s bodies, with Marco’s hand around your waist and with Jean’s palm as a pillow, you let the sleep seep in your tired body once more. Jean’s bed was just wide enough for the three of you to fit snuggly on.  
  
“Sleep tight,” Marco’s voice sounded distant, “We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”  
  
“Uh-uh,” Jean’s tone didn’t even try to hide sarcasm despite its drowsiness, “The big event of Wall maintenance.”  
  
Marco sighed tiredly and commented something, but by then you had already fallen blissfully asleep.

* * *

  
  
The morning found you alone in the bed, woken by a ray of sun coming from the open window. You could hear people talking and passing by on the street below, however the only view you had was of red-tiled rooftops  and the clear sky blemished by an occasional white cloud. The limitless possibilities. You will celebrate today and prepare for deployment towards Sina, closing one and opening a whole new chapter of your lives.  
  
A discreet knocking turned your attention just as Marco’s head emerged through the doorframe.  
  
“Ah, you’re up.” he smiled, sounding somewhat disappointed. “I wanted to finally kiss you awake.”  
  
You giggled and swung your legs off the bed, “A soldier cultivating romantic ideas?”  
  
Marco sighed, looking guilty and smiling at the same time, “Luckily, Jean is more down to earth guy.” He motioned with his head towards the staircase, “He prepared breakfast instead of kisses.”  
  
A faint smell of fried eggs made your stomach rumble so you started to dress quickly.  
  
“Luckily,” you said, leaning to place a peck on Marco’s cheek before climbing down the stairs, “I have the best of both.”  
  
After you had a light breakfast you geared up and left for the assembly, the last one before your unit was disbanded and your training finished. All that was left were the formalities.  


* * *

  
  
Your knees were buckling beneath you as Marco ushered you inside the house and Jean, breathless, slammed the door shut. They were shouting all the way to Jean’s house, running and skidding down the street, pulling and pushing you along, sprinting from one corner to another, but your mind couldn’t decipher the meaning of their words, your body mechanically going through the instinctive motions. Run away, flee, save yourself!   
  
The end of the world has come.  
  
After your back had hit the wall, you sat heavily down, unused blades shattering loudly across the floor from sheaths on your hips. The nightmare has come true; the colossal monster appeared again, larger than the Wall, blotting out the sky, the horizon, the life you knew. After it had breached the gates, titans marched the streets, their eerily humanoid faces grinning as they devoured people, tore their limbs off and…  
  
“They killed Thomas!” you heard yourself shriek, emerging from the daze, startling the boys who were frantically arguing on the other side of the room and taking uneasy glances through the curtains at the outside. The screams and panicked voices still echoed through your head but this silence that followed was by far worse.  “A-and Mylius! They killed them! They are gone!”  
  
Marco came over and crouched beside you, putting a protective arm around your shoulders. His hand was shaking but his eyes looked collected and deeply concerned as he inspected your face. “Are you alright?”  
  
“No! I am not alright! Why is this happening? Why are titans here? What will happen to us!?” you couldn’t stop a torrent of panicked words, too terrified to even cry.  
  
“Shhhh.” Marco’s other arm pulled your head to his chest, rocking you back and forth, his voice cracking. He smelled of terror-drenched sweat. It wasn’t a smell you knew. “Calm down.”   
  
He exchanged a quick, grim glance with Jean who still stood by the window.  
  
“Shit.” Jean spat under breath and repeated more loudly, pale as a ghost, “Shit!”  
  
He marched over, knelt and cupped your face with his hands. “Nothing will happen to us, do you hear?” he struggled to keep his voice firm, his brow knotted in a scary expression. He spoke slowly, making sure his words got to you through your buffer of panic, locking your eyes with his, ”We have a plan, remember? We are moving to Sina tomorrow. All of us, ok?”  
  
You weakly nodded, unconvinced.  
  
“Now,” he continued, licking his dry lips nervously, “Marco and I will go outside to help sort this out and you will stay here until we come back for you.”  
  
You started shaking your head frantically, but Jean gripped you tighter between his palms, staring you down with his hard glare, “This is my hometown, I cannot hide until somebody else does the dirty work for me. I will not let my parents end up like Zagashima refugees. I am a man, I have to act like one.”  
  
“Jean…” you started weakly, suddenly feeling a whole new dread inside your gut.  
  
He shook his head slowly and sadly, gently tracing a thumb across your cheek.  
  
You turned to Marco for support, his eyes wide, moist and distant, “Please, don’t go! Don’t leave me here!”  
  
Instead of an answer he pulled you in and hugged you so tight it hurt. “We will come back for you.” he whispered after a while, cradling your head under his chin, “Don’t go outside, whatever you hear. Wait for us.”  
  
“No.” you whispered dejectedly, tears finally finding their way down your cheeks. A feverish weakness spread through your body, tugging at your nerves, killing your will. “No.”  
  
Jean stood up, his voice sober and purposeful, “Avoid windows and wait till nighttime to move upstairs. There is enough food in the pantry to last for days, so you should be alright. Lie low. Don’t open the door to anybody, unless it’s one of us.”  
  
Marco collected your scattered blades, replacing his used ones and buckling up tighter. “This is just a hitch in our plan.” he did his best to smile at you, sliding his palm down your hair, “I will come for you when this is over so stay put.”   
  
“Promise?” you asked desperately, wishing you could stop the time.  
  
Marco brought your fingers to his lips and gave them a soft, dry kiss. You could feel him tremble but he managed to deliver a grin nevertheless. “Promise.”  
  
“We will look out for each other.” Jean chimed in from his position by the window, as he scanned the surroundings. “I know the town layout like the back of my hand. We have the best possible chances.” He turned to you, the sternness of his stare unable to completely mask his raw fear, half-convincing himself, “We will be alright.”  
  
You managed to get up to your feet because you didn’t want to see them off while crawling and cowering on the floor. It was the least you could do. By their looks, you could see they appreciated the gesture. You walked up to them and put an arm around each young soldier’s shoulder, helpless to protect them.  
  
“Just come back to me.” you whispered brokenly, fearing you were seeing them for the last time.  
  
They gave sharp nods and briskly walked out without a look back. Had they lingered, they would have never left - you understood. It didn’t make it any easier to let them go.  


* * *

  
  
A day passed in anticipation and dread, but apart from endless hours of waiting, nothing happened. In the evening Jean finally appeared, unarmed, on foot, carrying only an untouched water skin with him. You opened the door and almost knocked him down by clinging to him, hugging him like you were never letting him go again. He was disheveled, dusty, bruised and talked in unconnected bursts as he sat tiredly down at the table.   
  
“We stormed the warehouse… Eren transformed… the hole was plugged… then the Survey corps appeared and...”  
  
“Jean, Jean!” you tried to interrupt, frightened by dark rings under his eyes that weren’t there this morning. What has he been through?   
  
“It is safe to go outside.” he continued blabbering, “But you can stay here, my parents are still…”  
  
You grabbed his shoulders and gave him a rough shake, not caring if you worsened some of the cuts and injuries he sported. “Where is Marco?”  
  
Jean’s gaze finally revealed what he tried to hide behind the torrent of words – desperation. “I cannot find him. He didn’t report to the base.” He spoke eventually, in a quiet voice. “After the breach was plugged, we got orders to dispose of the titans within the walls.  A routine job. He just… he just disappeared.”  
  
Your hands fell from his shoulders, a lump forming in your throat, suffocating you. Your lower lip trembled but no sound would come out.  
  
“I will find him.” Jean mouthed pitifully after seeing your reaction, reaching out for you then backing away. “He is probably on the other side of the river and cannot find his way back in darkness. I’ll go and try again…”  
  
His bloodshot eyes darted anxiously across your face, looking for a reaction, dreading it. You quietly stood up, took his hand and led him upstairs.  
  
“You need to wash up. There’s blood and dirt on your face.” your voice sounded cold and detached as you climbed the staircase with Jean obediently following. “Then you will sleep. We will look for Marco tomorrow, when we rest.”  
  
The town outside was dark since most inhabitants deserted their houses and the indigo skies were the only visible sight spreading beyond the window. You laid on the bed, empty and numb, for what felt like forever, staring at the ceiling while Jean changed his clothes and washed the remnants of the battle off his body. When he didn’t show up after awhile you tiptoed to the bathroom doorframe and heard his suppressed whimpers. You entered without knocking and found him sitting on the floor naked, knees pulled in and with arms folded across his chest, nails digging into his shoulders. Wet sounds escaped his throat despite his clenched teeth.  
  
“Jean.” you breathed and caressed his damp hair, “Come.”  
  
He shakily got to his feet and followed you to his bed still warmed by your body. You stretched beside him and pulled the covers over your heads, cradling his forehead to your chest. As if touch and closeness of your body tore down some barrier inside him, Jean’s whimpers turned into sobs.  
  
“I am sorry.” he repeated, his body limp and quivering at the same time, “I am sorry.”  
  
Your fingers caressed his head silently, your eyes dry. How did that beautiful morning turn into this hell?  
  
“So many have died…” Jean’s voice was muffled beneath the covers, but all too clear to your ears. You didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to hear yet you kept stroking his hair, letting him cry it out.  
  
“They just ate them alive. Stomped them. Crushed them. There is blood and bodies everywhere… on the town’s square, on my school playground, in the streets…” He clutched your body with his strong arms, painfully, releasing the grip after a few long moments. ”Don’t go outside.”  
  
“We are both going out tomorrow, we need to find him.” you said flatly, void of emotions. You hated yourself for it, but it was all you could offer him at the moment.  
  
“I took him there. I made him go. He should have stayed here with you!” Jean wailed suddenly, the raw grief in his voice finally snapping something in you and bringing tears to your eyes. You could literally hear your heart break.  
  
“He would have followed you anyway.” you said, your chest torn with sobs. “You are his best friend.”  
  
“You really are blind.” Jean gave a bitter smile that sounded eerily inappropriate, making your skin crawl, “He would have kept you safe here, if it had been up to him. He would never have left your side. Did you not see his face when we walked outside that door?”  
  
It hurt to breathe. It hurt to talk. It hurt to feel.   
  
“He would die for you, but he wouldn’t live for me?” you exclaimed angrily, surprising even yourself, choking in tears, “What sort of shitty logic is that!?”   
  
Jean pulled your forehead to his face and embraced you tightly. “Ask him when we meet him tomorrow.” he said and added more quietly, rocking you gently with his body. “He wouldn’t dare... He wouldn’t.”  
  
Miraculously, at some point, you both fell asleep.  


* * *

  
  
The sun was already shining clearly when Jean’s hand gently shook your shoulder. Looking around and finding the bed beside you empty stifled the tiny hope you dared to nurture that Marco would show up during the night and wake you up with a kiss. You could almost see his face in the doorframe, calling you down for breakfast, but the illusion dissipated with last remnants of a dream.  
  
Every passing hour left you in deeper desperation.  
  
You ate in silence, chewing your food without tasting it, avoiding eye contact. It hurt to see the pain in each other’s gaze, Marco’s missing presence cutting like shards in your throats.   
  
“Do you blame me?” was the only thing Jean asked, when he had finally found the courage to. He had aged during that night, a hardness chiseled in his eyes that wasn’t there a day ago. You slowly shook your head, reached out across the table and squeezed his cold hand with your fingers.  
  
“I love you.” you mouthed with only a thin sound coming out. “And I love him also. We have to get him back.”  
  
Jean curtly nodded and pushed away his half finished meal to take your hand in his palms and bring it to his cheek. He held it pressed against his skin for a long time, his troubled eyes closed with a frown.  
  
“I have often thought about having you just for me...” he begun in a confessionary tone but his voice betrayed him, hot tears emerging beneath closed eyelids, sliding down his stubbled cheeks and dripping on your fingers. “But not like this…”  
  
You cupped his face with your other hand and gently shook his head to make him open his eyes. Reluctantly, his gaze met yours.  
  
“Don’t blame yourself.” you told him in a sobering tone.” He chose to follow you. He always looked up to you. He could not cower in a shelter with you putting your life on the line. How would he look you or me or anybody in the eye afterwards? He is also a man and acted like one.” You added, stubbornly fighting the tears and failing miserably, “And even if it tears me up with this grief inside, that is exactly why I love you both.”  
  
Jean got up and knelt by your chair, embracing you around the waist and nesting his head in your lap.  
  
“I love you, I love you.” he repeated, “I will find him for you. For us.”  
  
Afterwards he helped bandage up your bosom tightly and you slipped into the uniform, its familiar constraining feel surprisingly comforting. You had to do your duty and report to the base, then look for your missing comrade. Your missing lover. Your Marco.    
  
Since the monsters were again at bay, some people have mustered the courage to return to their homes and fix damages. You sought Marco’s freckled smile in each of their gaunt, haunted faces, reliving the disappointment a countless times. Roaming the streets, Jean was always a few steps ahead, making sure he was the first who came across any mess the titans left behind. The sights you encountered were monstrous, unreal in their bloody inhumanness, yet tangible and impossible to ignore. You have seen people die the pointless, merciless deaths, but you refused to believe until you witnessed with your own eyes that he... Yet, your eyes reluctantly covered darkened patches on the ground and avoided scanning the features of the fallen, dreading the recognition. Every time you found anything resembling a human body, you would stop and breathe very still, saying silent prayers until Jean started to move on. Only then would you dare a passing glance at the glassy eyes or disfigured limbs and lengthen your strides, trying to forget.  
  
Evening was creeping up on you and your fruitless search as you stumbled through the seemingly endless grid of streets and alleys, tired and dehydrated, half aware that turning back and giving up would mean admitting defeat, admitting that the reality got irreversibly broken.  
  
Jean’s silent gazes that caught your eye more frequently as the dusk fell around you echoed your growing dread. The two pairs of footsteps that were losing their briskness after hours of roaming seemed the only living and moving thing in this part of town that had yet to see its returning inhabitants. You walked until you could not take another step but you didn’t dare stop because Marco was counting on you, he was somehow depending on your will strength, your resolve to go on, to make one more step forward…  
  
You stumbled and Jean’s hands readily caught you. He must have been keeping his eye on you, anticipating your capitulation. Your body dangled in his arms like a puppet, your shaky knees unable to support your weight. Your eyes met but nobody could say the thing you were both thinking.  
  
“I cannot stand seeing you torture yourself anymore.” Jean finally said in a rasped voice, pulling you up. His face was pale and serious, ghostly. “I’m bringing you back and returning to search on my own.”  
  
You shook your head weakly but couldn’t even protest. Your body was heavy and your head swimming with dark thoughts, teetering on the edge of fainting just to avoid confrontation with the incomprehensible loss.  
  
Then you heard the song.  
  
The words were indecipherable but there was no mistaking that melody; it was the one he used to sing whenever he forgot himself, whenever he was lost in thoughts.  
  
“Marco!”  Jean’s raucous howl startled you. He must have heard it too, his gaze was whipping left and right, the first energetic reaction you got from him since he came back, and your own voice joined his calls, dispelling the fatigue. “MARCO!”  
  
“Jean!?” a voice from one of the tenebrous niches called out, weak yet unmistakable.   
  
Heedless of their weariness, your legs ran up to him, your mind absently registering the wince of pain on Marco’s face as he slowly got up. “You are here.” he gasped and held out the arm that wasn’t supporting him against the wall.  
  
You embraced him in stride, making him lose his balance and sit down hard, scraping your knees and elbows in the fall. You didn’t care. Physical pain couldn’t compare to the grief you felt up until now. He was here, alive and breathing, and that fact alone obliterated all that was wrong at that moment.  
  
“Where… Where have you been?” Jean wasn’t even trying to sound mad, his voice cracking as he cried openly, leaning against the wall.  
  
“I twisted my ankle badly while landing.” Marco stopped trying to get up and entwined his arms around you, nesting you on his chest. “I have found some food and water but couldn’t limp all the way back. I knew someone would come by eventually… Hey, hey, why are you crying?”  
  
You sobbed so hard against his body it was difficult to catch a breath to speak. “I thought. I had lost you. Forever.”  
  
Marco pulled back to see your face, his dark eyes wide and earnest, a pained expression twisting his eyebrows as he gently stroked your back, “I promised I would come back.” He looked up at Jean and after seeing his reaction, shook his head, “If I had known you’d be so worried I would have crawled my way back.”  
  
“You idiot.” Jean wiped his face with the back of his hand, pulling himself together, “You should have started crawling the second you fell.”  


* * *

  
  
It was past midnight when you finally dragged yourselves back to the house, Jean supporting Marco’s every painful step and you following, your eyes never leaving their broad backs. The young soldiers having survived their first battle, returning home. As if they felt your vigilant gaze, they would occasionally look back over their shoulders and cast you a tired smile, too weary to speak. They didn’t have to, their glances said it all.  
  
Ascending the staircase to Jean’s room seemed like climbing a mountain, but once you entered the familiar space, you felt a deep internal peace. The Moon hanging in the sky seemed oblivious of the carnage it had witnessed the night before, shining upon your naked bodies with its silver rays, making them surreal, blurring the bruises, cuts and scabs, erasing the gauntness and dark circles under your eyes.  
  
“Please tell me you will be here when I wake up.” you wanly smiled at the boys as you unraveled the bandages from around your chest.  
  
Marco, sitting on the bed, put his hand around your waist and pulled you down next to him, giving you a soft kiss.  
  
“I was always with you, only you couldn’t see me.” he flashed one of his tired, disarming smiles.  
  
“That doesn’t count.” you poked him playfully with an elbow, without any real power behind your blow. Your body was shutting down.   
  
Jean, silent and withdrawn, lingered on the other side of the room, outside the circle of the candlelight, rearranging the dirty heap that was his clothes. He cast occasional side glances in your direction, all traces of the usual cockiness gone from his expression. You reached out your hand to him and after awhile he tentatively sat down on the bed, leaving a narrow space between you, his shoulders slumped. He must have been exhausted.  
  
You leaned in and kissed him properly, for the first time that day. He reluctantly returned the kiss then pulled back, his orbs inspecting your reaction like a distrustful wild animal.  
  
“There is nothing to forgive.” you whispered an answer to his silent question and his features relaxed and gaze softened, as his lips found yours in a fiercer, surrendering kiss.  
  
When you sank in the soft bedding, Jean and Marco’s warm bodies resting on each side of yours, you finally felt everything was in order again. The Moon could go on roaming its obscure skies, the titans raking the outside of the Wall with their nails and your squad comrades dissipating like wind-carried flower petals to their new posts. Lying like this, with weight of your lovers’ hands pleasantly on your body, your skin warmed by theirs, their scent around you, nothing else mattered. Lying like this, you could easily forget the world.  
  
So you did.  
  
THE END


End file.
